


there you are

by aubadezayn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Case Fic, Concerned Dean, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Q center, Sam goes back to college, Seattle, Tourism, Tourist Castiel, Washington, college!Sam, demisexual!Sam, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:56:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aubadezayn/pseuds/aubadezayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Go get your man. You only live once, <i>Agent</i>. You could trip off a building and never have tapped that ass.”</p><p>--</p><p>A case requires Dean and Castiel to pretend to be Agents Smith and Smith - husbands. Sam goes back to school and has a happy normal life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there you are

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Maybe come talk to me on tumblr? I'm [castielspicelatte](http://castielspicelatte.tumblr.com)

“No.”

 

Dean’s done a lot of crazy stuff for a case, he’ll admit to doing drag to jumping off buildings and landing in dumpsters. But fucking grave digging is a piece of cake compared to this _travesty_ they want him to pull off.

 

“Agent Smith, please-“

 

“No, I won’t do it! It’s crazy, we’ll just talk to her when she remembers-“

 

“She might not remember for months, Agent. It would be much better for you AND her if you just played along, nothing overly explicit or intimate but enough-“ Dr. Rockhill insisted, shaking his clipboard at Dean.

 

“We’ll do it.”

 

“Fuck you, Cas.”

 

* * *

 

_September 10 th, 2015_

_9:05 AM PST_

_Seattle, Washington_

_Northwest Hospital and Medical Center_

 

“Um, hello Miss. Ramirez, I’m Agent Smith and this is my _partner_ uh, my partner-“ Dean stuttered, gesturing towards Cas with his little notebook but avoiding looking at him.

 

“Agent Smith as well, it is nice to meet you Miss. Ramirez. Though terrible under these circumstances, we issue our condolences.” Cas reached out to shake the young girl’s hand, his suit pressed, his voice calm, the picture of a good FBI agent. She smiled at him, the bandage around her head making her rest back against the pillows.

 

“So you guys are husbands, right? I _told_ you, thought I was going crazy when you kept denying it. I might not remember my family, but I couldn’t forget you two.” She jerked her head in some semblance of a nod, looking pleased with herself. She was young, with high cheekbones and a heart-shaped face, little butterfly bandages all over it holding scratches closed. Kristian Ramirez – Dean had read all about her in her file. A college student at the University of Washington heading for a Business degree, involved with the Q Center and the Hispanic Cultural Society, Kristian was known by all her friends as a nice, generous person with ambition.

 

The entire school was shocked and horrified when she fell – or was pushed – off the top of her dorm, landing right next to a poor group of foreign exchange students.

 

When she woke up, after several weeks of cranial surgeries and being in a coma, Kristian knew two things.

 

One, she hadn’t jumped.

 

Two, Dean and Castiel Smith were a lovely married couple she’d met at the Q Center. Discussing ectoplasm and various resources for asexuals.

 

Now both were at least partially true in Dean’s opinion. Dean and Cas had been at the Q Center, both for Sam’s sake and for the people hearing chains rattling at night in the Hub. Sam, deciding that he’d given more than enough with the failed trials, was going back to school to get a degree in Education. He didn’t have the strength for Law anymore, he told Dean one night when Dean was still grumbling about him leaving at all, but he could still teach people. He could still make sure there was a generation of bright people taking care of the world.

 

Maybe he could protect humans that way, Sam had explained. Just maybe that would be enough.

 

And Dean had broken, and thrown himself into his brother’s College Experience pt. 2.

 

They weren’t ethnic in any way, as far the whiteness of their skin went so they didn’t spend much time at the Cultural Center, though Cas had enjoyed the show of Tahitian dance a lot. Sam would have loved the politics clubs, especially the Young Democrats but he barely qualified as young anymore.

 

The Commuters Commons would be a good place for studying when he had to stay on campus all day, and Dean particularly liked the donuts they put out for students.

 

But most importantly – at least to Dean, embarrassing Sam quite a lot was the Q Center. Along with laying out his plan to go back to school, Sam had admitted to Dean that he was demisexual.

 

Of course Dean assumed that meant Sam was in love with a demigod, and he was about to gank the monster preying on his brother when Sam clarified it was a type of asexual. Most of the spiel went right over Dean’s head, but he tried.

 

He tried, and when Sam was moving into his apartment in the U-District (the part of Seattle dedicated to the University), Dean took Cas to the Q Center or the Queer Center as it represented.

 

That’s where they met Kristian, where Dean ate a rainbow colored cookie, and where she must have assumed they were the sweet, gay parents of a queer undergrad named Sam.

 

Now, weeks later, that was the only idea that stuck in her mind.

“Uh, yes, yes we’re _husbands._ ” Dean ground his teeth together. “But we’re not here to talk about-“

 

“When did you two get married? Were you still keeping it private, it was pretty obvious at the Q Center but I deal with the closeted all day-“

 

“We’re not in a closet.” Cas’ eyebrows furrowed together and Dean internally smacked his head against the wall.

 

“Not a closet, Castiel. _The_ closet.”

 

“What is this closet, Dean-“

 

“Anyway!” Dean clapped his hands together, cutting Cas off. “We’re here to ask you a few questions about your fall.”

 

Kristian recoiled immediately, her face shutting down for a moment before lighting up again. “So you believe that I fell? No one else does, they all I think I just don’t want to admit I was depressed. But I wasn’t I swear.”

 

“We believe you.” Cas sat down at the foot of the bed and pat her hand solemnly. “We’re just trying to find out what did happen.”

 

“Exactly.” Dean agreed, getting a pen out of his pocket. “Just tell us whatever you can about the night.”

 

“I don’t remember much. My long term memory is gone, so I have to be reminded who my Mom is when she visits, but my short term isn’t that bad. I can remember being in my dorm, studying for Econ. Then I think I heard my roommate say something, and the next thing I remember was waking up in this bed and being told how lucky I was to have survived.”

 

“What did your roommate say, can you remember?”

 

Kristian shook her head slowly, solemnly. She fiddled with the blankets in her lap, neck bent at an uncomfortable angle to keep her head on the pillow.

 

“It might have been my name, might have been anything. I can’t remember. When will I remember?” The question didn’t seem phrased for them, but Dean answered anyway.

 

“Your Doctor believes you’ll start to remember slowly, but soon. We’ll be back Friday to see if you remember more, but here’s my card-“ Dean extended his fake Agent card towards her. “Please call us if you do remember something.”

 

“Okay…why does the FBI care so much? UW police I can see caring, but not the Federal government. Especially about a minority…”

 

“We picked your case special, _we_ care.” Cas assured her, his voice soft. “We are going to be here until we find out who did this to you.”

 

\-------------------------------

 

Hours later, in their hotel room, Cas was settled on the couch in a pair of bee-covered pajama pants, going through a series of pamphlets on the Education school at UW. Sam was settling into his apartment a few blocks over, and getting ready for his first class tomorrow. Dean was avoiding thinking about his “husband” and focusing on possibilities for what hurt Kristian.

 

“It’s not a ghoul, not a Wendigo. Not a woman in white. Not an angel, there’s nothin’ special about her.” He talked to himself, laying on the bed and staring up at the popcorn ceiling.

 

“An angel would have just killed her, Dean.” Cas interrupted from the living area.

 

“True.” Dean exhaled roughly and ran a hand down his face. He was still wearing his FBI garb and no closer to an answer than he was this morning when he’d first put it on. “This sucks, Cas.”

 

“I know, Dean.” Cas commiserated blankly, the sound of a pamphlet folding and unfolding reaching Dean’s ears.

 

“I can’t even research until we k now more about that night, so what the fuck do I do, Cas? Twiddle my thumbs? Watch I Love Lucy reruns?”

 

“You could go to sleep.” Cas grumbled, focused on his pamphlet.

 

“I can’t sleep all week.”

 

“Dean. Please, I’m trying to read.”

 

“It’s a pamphlet, Cas. About a program you’re not in, why are you so interested?” Dean asked, sitting up and glaring at the man.

 

“Sam is in this program.” Cas said, finality in his tone. He glared back at Dean with ten times the force and flipped one of the shiny, little pages defiantly. “I’m interested in Sam’s wellbeing here.”

 

“This is why Kristian thought you were his Dad.” Dean snarked, getting up and plopping himself down next to Cas. He stole the pamphlet out of the angel’s hands and started blankly flipping through the pages, seeing buildings and credentials everywhere.

 

“This is probably why she thought we were married as well.” Cas pointed out quietly, his hand brushing Dean’s thigh gently where it was pressed to Cas’ on the couch. Dean abruptly stopped flipping pages, realizing how close together they were. They were pressed up against each other entirely up his left side, and he hadn’t even realized he’d sat so close. Cas’ face was only a few inches from his and he could feel the soft give of his pajama pants through his own slacks.

 

They stared at each other for several minutes, some sort of communication passing between them that Dean didn’t really understand.

 

He stood up, rubbing his hands along his thighs awkwardly. “Um, I’m going to shower.”

 

“Alright…” Cas trailed off, picking up his pamphlet and resuming slowly, glancing up at Dean still standing there.

 

“I’m going to lock the door.” Dean blurted out, wanting to punch himself in the face immediately.

 

“Okay, Dean.” Cas had a small condescending smile on his face and Dean stalked off for his shower, skin crawling with embarrassment.

 

He slammed himself against the bathroom door the moment it shut behind him, putting his hands over his face and exhaling sharply. This was why he didn’t want to do this charade. It was like knowing you had bunions and doing a foot commercial…that was a weird analogy. Scratch that, it was like having stupid fucking feelings for a man and then pretending to be the husband of that man. They hadn’t spent twenty minutes with Kristian, and they hadn’t acted any differently than normal, but it was like opening Pandora’s box.

 

Now all Dean could think about was Cas. Cas wearing his ring, Cas taking his last name, Cas wearing those stupid bee pajama pants in his bed.

 

He should have told that Doctor to shove it.

 

* * *

 

 

After a restless night’s sleep, Dean got up early and went to meet Sam for first-day-of-school breakfast. Sam was still sleep-mussed and yawning when he walked into the diner they’d agreed on but Dean was chipper, having had three cups of coffee before 8 AM.

 

“Good mornin’, Sunshine.” Dean mocked, raising his eyebrows in faux surprise when Sam flipped him off.

 

A waitress blew by, assuring them quickly that she’d be right back for them.

 

“So how’s the apartment?”

 

“Cold.” Sam yawned, bracing his head on his hand. “And my bed didn’t get delivered yet, so I had to sleep on the couch and its too short.”

 

“Mmm, college life. You asked for it buddy, the bunker has memory foam.”

 

“Shut up and buy me breakfast. I’m poor now that I’m legal again.”

 

-

 

“So how’s Cas?” Sam asked finally, after a few mugs of coffee and some pancakes. Dean had convinced him to splurge as part of the celebration and get blueberry pancakes instead of a fruit salad.

 

“He’s fine, think he’s going to the Art Museum today. Little fucking tourist.” Dean shoveled hashbrowns and bacon into his mouth, ignoring the pang of fondness in him when he remembered how excited Cas had been about the African/Tribal Exhibition he’d found on the Art Museum’s website. The dork had gotten so excited about the antique porcelain exhibition, and Dean blamed the bacon for the twisting of his heart.

 

“You’re not going with him?”

 

“I’m not actually married to the dork, he’s a big boy, he can go by himself.” Dean defended himself vehemently.

 

“Hey, hey.” Sam put one of his hands up in defeat. “I just know you don’t have anything to do until Friday, so why not go with him? It might be interesting; I think you’d like modern art.”

 

“Isn’t modern art just like the circle on the canvas? Or the couple lines of color that’s supposed to represent the Korean War?”

 

“At least you’d like the pretty colors.”

 

“Bitch.”

 

“Jerk.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Cas.” Dean announced his presence as he walked into their hotel room.

 

“Hello, Dean.” Cas greeted him quietly from the bed where he was eating a pudding cup and reading a newspaper. He was still in his pajamas.

 

“You heading out soon?”

 

“After my pudding.”

 

“Did I ever tell you about the time I was in an asylum?” Dean chuckled, remembering it for himself. Cas’ face fell oddly flat and Dean didn’t understand what he said wrong until Cas spoke.

 

“Did I ever tell you about the time _I_ was in an asylum?”

 

Dean winced at Cas’ sharp tone. “Sorry, Cas. I…you know what, let’s go to the museum!”

 

“You’re coming with me?” Cas asked, eyes wide and hopeful. Pudding forgotten.

 

“Yeah, why not? I don’t have anything else to do, and Sam thinks I’d like modern art.”

 

“I think you’d like Renaissance.”

 

“Well we’ll see. You think they have a food court?” Dean asked, moving towards the bathroom.

 

“You just had breakfast, Dean.”

 

“Yeah, an hour ago.” He slammed the bathroom door behind him, smiling at Cas’ incredulous expression.

 

-

 

The art museum isn’t bad. He likes Renaissance art.

 

He also likes that in the porcelain room, it’s dark enough for him to hold Cas’ hand and not have to answer any questions about it.

 

He blames Kristian.

 

* * *

 

 

Throughout the week, he meets up with Sam frequently for meals and goes to tourist attractions with Cas. He’s not used to having so much free time, keeping busy with cases for all of his life, but it’s never idle. He and Cas go to the Space Needle, they go to the Aquarium, they spend several hours walking through the zoo hand in hand. They don’t talk about the hand holding but sometimes he’ll see Cas watching him out of his peripherals, and he knows the angel wants to ask.

 

He’s not entirely sure how he would answer if Cas did ask. He just knows he enjoys it.

 

They’re on the bus back to the U-District, sitting close together and holding hands when Dean’s phone buzzes in his pocket. At first he thinks it must be Sam, texting him about how his bed still hasn’t arrived or how much homework he has or a photo of a salad with the caption “does this scare you, Jerk?”. So he ignores it, leaning over Cas to point the angel’s gaze toward the beautiful night skyline.

 

But his phone keeps buzzing so eventually he pries it out of his pocket and clicks the screen on. He has 6 unread texts and the one he can see reads “You’re not husbands are you?” from Kristian.

 

He swipes to reply and reads the rest.

 

_“I remember.”_

_“I tripped off the roof.”_

_“Apparently there was a Super Moon.”_

_“You and Cas aren’t husbands, are you.”_

_“That’s embarrassing.”_

_“Unless you are? I’m still confused about you two.”_

 

Dean is too.

 

He puts the phone back in his pocket and throws his arm around Cas. He’s going to enjoy this, the logistics don’t matter and he doesn’t want to deal with them now.

 

* * *

 

He goes to see Kristian Saturday morning when Cas is passed out in his bed, cuddling the stupid Seahawks bear Dean bought at a tourist shop. He’d named it Voltaire for some reason, the little dork, and Dean didn’t have the heart to say he was just joking when he bought it.

 

His FBI garb feels strangely set on his shoulders as he shifts around the elevator, headed slowly up to the 8th floor of the hospital. He’s not sure why he’s so anxious, he just knows that he spent the night before cuddled up with Cas, and that’s important. There’s no going back to whatever they used to be, and Dean’s still not sure what _else_ they can be.

 

The elevator dings at floor 8 and he gulps.

 

Room 811.

 

Dean knocked on the open door and Kristian’s head popped up from the pillow. The bandages were still in place but her face seemed much better, and her eyes were brighter. “Hey, Agent. How you doin’?”

 

“You have to be more careful.” Dean smiled, sitting down in the chair next to the bed.  He didn’t bother elaborating because Kristian chuckled, getting the reference.

 

“It’s a story I’ll be able to tell my grandkids. Grandma tripped off a roof.”

 

They chuckled quietly, smiling at each other.

 

“So how’s your _partner_?” Kristian smiled, wagging her eyebrows at him.

 

“He’s…being a tourist. Before we go back to HQ, I mean.” Dean coughed, remembering their cover story. Kristian stared at him like she didn’t really believe him but she nodded.

 

“That’s good, Seattle has a ton to offer.” They looked at each other, Kristian seeming to read straight through Dean’s façade but not saying so.

 

“How’d you know? What was it?”

 

“How’d I know what? About you and Castiel?”

 

“I didn’t even know. I did but…I would never have mentioned it, never have acted on it…”

 

Kristian smiled, looking down at her hands. “I have permanent brain damage. It’s not severe enough that I can’t function, but it’s severe enough that I’ll have a limp, and missing memory for the rest of my life. But…before all that, my Dad was abusive.”

 

“I’m sorry about what you’ve been through, but I don’t-“

 

“I’ve seen a lot of shit, and I just went through even more, and that means that I look for the good. I have to. If I didn’t search out positive things, I’d have _jumped_ off that roof. But I didn’t even have to search for you and Castiel. It was _obvious_.

 

There was like this light, this aura around you two. This _bond_ that I could feel coming off of you two.”

 

“So it wasn’t anything we did? You just, somehow, knew?”

 

“My mom used to say I was psychic. But for like, soulmates. I told her that I didn’t see it for her and my Dad, and she divorced him, fell in love with someone else and moved to Bali with him when I went to college.”

 

“She believed you?”

 

“Maybe, or maybe she just needed a push to leave her abusive husband. Doesn’t really matter if the sense is true, or if I’m _really_ psychic, it just matters what YOU do with the information. I could tell you that you and Castiel are soulmates, its only true if you want it to be.”

 

Dean was quiet, mulling over her words. Did he want that? Could he give Cas what he deserved from this? He was damaged, but so was Sam and he was doing good things with his life? Why couldn’t Dean?

 

“You’re not an FBI agent.” Kristian said, breaking the silence.

 

Dean looked up at her and grinned. “Prove it.”

 

They smiled at each other in silence and then suddenly started laughing.

 

“Go get your man. You only live once, _Agent._ You could trip off a building and never have tapped that ass.”

 

* * *

 

Dean slams open the hotel room door, a grin spread across his face and determination in his gut. The smack of the door against the wall startles Cas apparently, and coffee gets jostled out of his hands and to the floor, spreading in a pool at his feet.

 

“Dean!” Cas shouts in surprise, reaching for paper towels hurriedly but Dean doesn’t allow him to clean it up. Dean grabs Cas by the shoulders pulling him away from the mess and pressing him up against the wall.

 

_You only live once, Winchester._

When his lips meet Cas’ finally, the first thought in his mind is that Kristian was absolutely right. He can feel it, he can feel the bond. His mind seems to sigh, as their lips move together, _finally. I found you, there you are._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are much appreciated!!


End file.
